The 250th Hunger Games: Broken Strings
by HeartfeltSorrow14
Summary: This SYOT Quarter Quell story takes place 50 years after the events of 'The 200th Hunger Games'. "For the Districts, it's going to be the worst games yet. For the Capitol, there will be none before it that can compare." SYOT open is chapter 2! See my profile when chapter 2 is published for the form. See my profile for list of open spaces.
1. Chapter 1: The President

The middle aged woman perches on the edge of her grand desk, awaiting the avox. As the avox slips silently through the door holding a red dress, the woman sighs, and then frowns. "No, you fool!" Her voice rises in frustration as she presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose. The avox tremors slightly as she dares to look the woman in the eye.

"I said I want the Venetian red, not the Carnelian red." Her patronising voice makes the avox quiver like a leaf. The avox nervously takes a step backwards, and stumbles. She almost drops the dress, but clutches at the slipping fabric as if her life depends on it. There are visible tears in her large, hurt brown eyes. The woman cocks her head slightly as she observes the new avox employed to work for her.

She looks like a petrified puppy. The woman stifles a laugh as the avox stands and waits for her orders. The woman tosses her golden ringlets over her shoulders as she stands. She approaches the avox with quick steps. Soon she looks down on the avox, and snarls at her.

"How are my nails?" The woman flashes her perfect red nails. "Do you think they're meant to match a dress of a different shade?" she questions, eying the avox menacingly. The young avox shakes her head in an apology. She bows quickly before backing away as the woman waves her away.

"Try and get the right shade this time, idiot." She slams the door on the cowering avox. "They're just plain stupid. How would they even have the brains to think of defying the glorious Captiol?" she wonders aloud, looking out across the modern city from her mansion.

A flicker of her old self shows through as she sits back at her desk and holds a red envelope in between her fingers. _Bless the avoxes. Bless all the poor people in the Districts. My new avox has only been in the Capitol for a week, and yet, I am already bossing her around. The woman feels bad all of a sudden; feeling disgusted at what her family has forced the people of Panem to do. Now the job of President falls to the woman sitting at the desk. I have been spoilt and only learnt to accept the best with precise precision. How do the people in the Districts cope?_

The woman forces the naïve thoughts from her head. Those thoughts, if voiced, could make her lose the position of President. They could even grant her death, as those words are seen as a form rebelling. There shall be no rebelling tolerated in Panem, no matter who the rebel may be.

They are all bad people- the Districts, the avoxes. That's why we must punish them. They caused this, and I should not feel pity for them. The woman smiles and smoothes down her shirt. Her eyes focus once more on the envelope. The Districts will fear her even more after the Quell twist is announced.

She doesn't care what colour her dress is. She doesn't care if it matches her nails. She just knows she must keep her family name feared across all of Panem. She has to keep the Districts tame. Panem must have peace once more, and that means harsher quells than ever before. Once there is peace, the Quarter Quells will become less violent. I must be cruel to be kind. She tells herself as she seals the envelope with the Quell twist written with careful handwriting in. The head gamemaker helped her to develop the Quell idea, making it as horrifying as possible for the districts.

For the Districts, it's going to be the worst games yet. For the Capitol, there will be none before it that can compare.

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><p><strong>AN- So here is the first chapter of the new SYOT I have been working on for a bit :) I hope you liked this short introduction, which just gives a little insight into the current situation in Panem. This story is on the same time line (but obviously more in the future) as 'The 200th Hunger Games'. I hope you enjoyed it! **Tributes can be submitted from the next chapter on wards after the Quell Twist is revealed.

**What do you think of the new President? And what do you all think the Quell Twist will be? (All will be revealed next chapter!)**

**Please leave a review, I really appreciate it and read them all :)  
>Please also favouritefollow if you're interested in sending a tribute or just to keep up with the story**

Thanks to GeorgeMellark6 for helping me find a title! Go check out his own SYOT!  
>Thanks to mangesboy01 for beta reading as usual!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2: The Quell Twist

Thryll Fier grins smugly and rubs his hands together. This will be his last year as head gamemaker before the post is passed onto one of his co-workers. He will go out with a bang, and put fear into the hearts of every person in every District. The twist is positively perfect. The President herself, daughter of the previous President, whom Thryll had worked with for the Eighth and Ninth Quells, allowed Thryll to help develop her idea for this year's Hunger Games.

He watches large computer screens with images of the arena for the 250th Hunger Games. They tick over on a circuit, showing him the amazing arena he has designed. Every Gamemaker has agreed it's his best work yet. Teamed with the gamemaker's mutt and trap designs, it'll be absolutely terrifying.

His lips prick up into a sly smirk as the pictures continue. The pictures feature some traps designed by a young gamemaker, who could perhaps take Thryll's place once he leaves this year. The traps aren't designed to kill; just severely injure so that the Capitol may watch the District Scum suffer.

The Quell twist runs through his mind as various images flash up for a few seconds before fading and being replaced seamlessly with another. It is designed to affect everyone this year. If everyone is affected, the rebelling shall stop.

He glances to the clock. Ten minutes until the reading of the card. He shuts off the electricity to the room, shrugs on his black jacket and locks the door. He has to stop himself from skipping gleefully down the corridor. This is going to be the best games ever!

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><p>Thryll finds his seat at the side of the stage just before the cameras begin rolling. President Youth, in all her beauty and glamour, walks out onto the stage, waving royally to her beloved citizens. Her golden hair shines under the lights, and she begins the mundane speech her father used to read. It's the same speech every Quell. If one were to watch the first quarter quell they'd find the speech differs very little to the one read out now in the 250th Hunger Games.<p>

Eventually the dull speech ends, and a young Capitol child presents the box of Quell twists on a plump cushion, the corners embellished with golden tassels. We tell the Districts that the Quell twists were written back when the Hunger Games began. That's a lie, obviously. We need the quell twists to relate to current on goings in Panem. If they don't relate, then they're completely useless in keeping control.

President Youth grins as the plucks the envelope she sealed yesterday from the box. It is titled with 'Tenth Quarter Quell' in gold writing. She breaks the seal and reads the card over in her head before presenting it to the nation holding its breath.

"To show the Districts that family had to fight alongside each other during the dark days, two tributes from each district will be reaped, and then have to choose a member of their family to enter the arena alongside them. However, there can only be one victor."

There is a moment of silence across the whole of Panem, before the Capitol citizens begin to cheer, and the District citizens weep.

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><p><strong>AN- Thanks so much for reading!**

**Tribute submissions now open!  
><strong>  
><strong>The form can be found on my profile along with guidelines. Tributes only submitted through PM, not review.<strong>  
><strong><br>What do you think of the twist?  
>I was so happy to bring Thryll Fier back into this games, as he didn't feature too heavily in the 200th Games. How are you guys liking him? :)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3: Pre-reaping Affairs

**Chapter Three  
><strong>  
><strong>AN- Sorry for the huge hiatus. I hope you like this chapter.  
>I am also looking for a beta reader for Broken Strings, so if anyone is interested please PM me!<br>Some tribute spots are still open so please don't hesitate to send me some tributes! Details on my profile and in the first two chapters.**

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><p><strong>Tatiana Octave- Capitol Resident and Escort of District 5<strong>

"Wow!" I exclaim, jumping from my seat and clapping my hands. Skipping gleefully round my apartment in the heart of the glorious Capitol, I praise Miss Youth and Thryll Fier. "The twist is absolutely amazing!" I squeak, lunging for my phone. I swiftly dial my best friend Cleo and admire my freshly manicured nails as I press the buttons. This week I've got them done lime green, to match my contact lenses, with black and gold stripes. They look stunning.

"Hello?" Cleo asks down the phone. At first I don't hear her because I'm too busy admiring my nails. They're so shiny that I can actually see my reflection in them! I look so pretty today. I pout, showing off my pink lips.

"Hello?" Cleo repeats herself. She makes me jump and I almost drop my phone. I catch it against the side of my face.

"Cleo, my baby, hello!" I squeal with excitement. "Did you see the twist being announced?"

"I did, I did. It's completely darling, is it not?"

"So darling." I agree, my eyes drifting down to my eccentric nails.

"Sucks to be District scum doesn't it?" I can see her wrinkling her nose at just the thought of those mutts. "Could you imagine if we had to fight our families?" She asks.

"Well thank the Capitol that we weren't born into those lower class families." I laugh, inspecting my lip gloss. "Oh my gosh." I say slowly whilst looking at the section of my lip where I smudged my lip gloss when catching the phone against my face.

"What?" Cleo cries.

"My lip gloss. It's ruined! I'm going to have to call you back."

"That's a disaster!" Cleo sympathises with me. "Take your time beautiful; I'll be waiting for you to call back."

"Bye darling." I make a kiss noise down the phone and wait for her to echo it before hanging up.

I head into my bathroom and switch on the lights that focus on my face. I wipe off my lip gloss and start my routine again. The lights dazzle me as I flick my hair over my shoulders and pout. I am stunning. I bat my eyelashes and admire my hair. I have it dyed black with gorgeous gold streaks- all to match my eyes and nails. The Districts love it when us Capitol citizens show off our wealth and happiness, because it persuades their young children to compete in the Hunger Games. I giggle to myself. District Five is a difficult District to deal with, but the pay is brilliant, and it gets me recognised in the Capitol.  
>I better get some good tributes this year. If I have the Victor that might even mean promotion to District One or Two! I clap my hands together. Now District One would be brilliant to work with. Swiftly applying a fresh layer of lip gloss I get ready to head out to meet with the other escorts.<p>

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><p><strong>Radiant Leev (18) District 1<strong>

I slam my trainer to the ground before thrusting my sword forward into the dummy. The whistle blows and I look to the observing trainer for my time. "Another record, Radiant." He nods, impressed. "Two minutes, thirty-nine seconds."

I punch the air and smirk; I didn't even break a sweat. Seeing all the girls watching me instead of training I grin and call out, "Ladies, shouldn't you be training?" I flick back my long brown hair and raise my eyebrows. I try my best to impress- I like to leave a lasting impression. The crowd shuffle slightly and begin to mumble. They give me a final glance before sighing and heading back to their stations.

Setting yet another record time only reinforces the fact that I will be the male volunteer, meaning I have to find a family member. I want to take part in the Hunger Games, but the twist is brutal, and with only one tribute coming out alive I have to choose carefully.

Looking up to the large metal tree, I find my little brother perching on a low branch among the fake leaves. It's a tricky branch to get to, but not too high, because my brother hates heights. His black as night hair is highly visible on the silver metal, and I swing myself up and work my way to him in no time.

"Hey, Shimmer." I grin, progressing along the branch to reach him. His eyes flick up from the plant book he's reading. Shimmer reads everything from story books from the Dark Days to factual books about plants. A shy grin blossoms across his freckled face. "Hello, Radiant. I saw your run on the course; you were very good."

"Thanks." I nod, seeing a bruise on my brother's chin. "Where did you get that?" I ask, pointing to his chin. He shakes his head.

"Someone's picking on you again, aren't they?" I ask, anger quickly rising. Shimmer's subtle nod confirms my suspicions and I slam my fist into the metal tree, which emits a loud 'clang'. "I thought I had made it clear to those bullies that they don't mess with you!" I shout in annoyance.

"It's okay, Radiant. They just don't understand my-"

"Well they should learn to understand your condition. Physical properties should not what be defines who you are." I say firmly, hanging onto a branch and leaning out, looking across the training centre. My rage quickly subsides as I realise Shimmer is quivering slightly. I don't mean to scare him. "Who was it?" I ask, swinging back in and propping myself up beside him.

I finally got it out of him, and no surprise it was the same old bully I thought I had taught a lesson to. "Quartz Demour" I shout, running up to the average sized guy who for some reason has always hated my younger brother. Probably because Shimmer is so much smarter than he is. Quartz was the one who started all of this bullying, back when Shimmer was only five. It's not Shimmer's fault he doesn't grow as quickly as others.

"What's wrong with you, you moron?" I charge at him, fists rising. He catches me round the waist, reading my predictable path, and flings me to the ground.

"What's wrong with your brother?" He asks, smirking. "Oh yeah- everything." He chuckles, looking behind me to Shimmer. "Why is he so small?" he asks, mocking my brother, who only stands at just a touch over five feet. Shimmer dips his eyes down and hides behind his fringe of dark hair. He shuffles uncomfortably.

"Like you actually want to know why." I snarl, lashing out at Quartz. I catch him round the face, and leave a long scratch over his skin.

"What do you think you're doing?" He glares it me, pushing me in the chest.

"Teaching you a lesson because the one I gave you when you were younger obviously wasn't good enough, was it?" I launch a flurry of punches ranging from his face down to his chest. He's winded, but stands back up strong and looks me in the eye.

"There's a crowd forming, Radiant. Better start shining, show off." Quartz snarls "I don't know how you've always been ranked higher than me. I should be the one volunteering, not you."

"Oh so that's why you've always been so bitter towards my brother and I." I frown, but look fondly towards Shimmer. No one can ever understand how much I care for him. He means the world to me, and I will do anything to protect him.

"Yeah. That and the fact he's an undergrown mutt." Quartz raises his eyebrows. In a split second I grab a sword from the rack to my right and lunge forward. No one is mean to my brother.

* * *

><p><strong>Athena Malone (40) District 2<strong>

My knife is so familiar to my hands now. My hands have practically moulded to hold the shape of the handle. I stole a set of twelve from the training centre ages back. I am too poor to train there, so I teach myself. The black body of the knife is warm from the heat of my hand, whilst the blade is ice cold, much like my heart, as I've been told many times.

I flick my wrist and release my fingers. The movement is so natural to me now. The knife flies as if it has wings as it leaves my hand. The silver blade glints in the air as it sails towards my target painted green and red. It sticks firmly in the centre of the circular board. I smirk and pick my way through the long grass in my garden. I know I am ready for the games. I rip the knife from the board with determination, a small smirk painted on my lips.

"I volunteer as tribute!" My voice echoes through the deadly silent town square. Heads turn as they watch a tall girl with black-as-night hair flowing down her back walk confidently to the stage. Frowns of confusion are etched onto people's faces. People that train at the centre begin to look at each other in shock. "Why has that girl volunteered?" a voice asks.

"I've never seen her before in my life" another responds.

"Who is she?" people murmur to each other.

I snatch the microphone from the ditsy Capitol citizen. "Athena Malone." I say, full with confidence, silencing the doubtful mutters. "I may not go to the training centre, but I guarantee you I will win these games."

And I did.

My wonderful recollection ends with the final fight.

I push my district partner to the floor, kicking his golden sword embellished with emeralds and diamonds from his reach. I smirk down on the muscled boy who never thought to fear me because I hadn't gone to the training centre. He tries to fight to get up, but to no avail. At some point he receives his sword again, and takes a slash at my face during our grapple for the win. The metallic taste of my own blood pouring into my mouth is strong, but that sourness just drives me on. I don't remember the final battle clearly after that, but it ends the same way it began- a flick of my wrist, and a knife goes flying. He is close range, but it doesn't matter. It sticks firmly into his tattered shirt, jutting out proudly above where his heart is, and begins to drain of blood.

I watch, smirking, and then begin laughing as the colour drains from his face. Large brown eyes beg me for help. The colour from his face transfers to his shirt, turning the white material red. I spit in his face as he begs for me to end it. I cruelly drag another knife down his arms, raking his skin until his screams fill my ears.

His sticky blood coats my fingertips as I finish the work on his arm. I take one of my bloody fingers and wipe it across his mouth, painting a clown-like smile across his dead lips. The glistening brown eyes I have come to know begins to fade as my cackle grows louder. His heart is still trying to work around my knife, so to end his suffering I swiftly throw three more knives at his body, piercing his neck, stomach and thigh. Instantly the cannon sounds.

"And I present to you the winner of the 228th Hunger Games, Athena Malone of District 2."

I wake with a smile on my lips. Twenty-two years on and I'm now 40, but nowhere near past my prime. I will enter the games again this year after hearing the plot twist. My wonderful son, Scorpio, has plans to volunteer this year, and most likely he will choose me to enter as his family member. He's the most powerful of the training centre, and so he should be, as he is my son. My only son. I have always wanted more, though my frail, insignificant husband never gave me more. However, this means I invest all my money in Scorpio, to give him the best chances of winning and becoming a strategic killer, just like myself.

So for the 250th Hunger Games, we will enter the arena together, and find the real victor in our family.

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><p><strong>AN- So that's chapter three. Sorry if my writing quality is poor; I'm a little rusty after all my time away from writing.  
>I hope you liked this chapter either way!<strong>  
><strong>The next chapter will be some POVs from three outer districts I think, and then the following chapters will be the reapings. <strong>  
><strong>The 200th Hunger Games should also be updated soon but my exams are getting nearer and unfortunately they must be my priority. <strong>


	4. Chapter 4: Pre-reaping Affairs (Part 2)

**Stander Kray (21) District 7**

I frantically force my way through the crowd forming around the small square. People minding shops come to their doorways to see what all the commotion is about, peering from their doorstep to witness the events. Frustrated, I put more effort into my push, and suddenly burst out into the open. I find myself on the cobble floor on the square and glance around. I blush red when I realise a few people are looking at me with raised eyebrows, but I follow the other residents' stare to a young girl being confronted by a peacekeeper.

"Jania!" I scream, leaping to my feet. As I approach the two figures, the peacekeeper dressed all in white armour, flicks out his baton. My younger sister cowers backwards slightly, unsure of whether she should risk running. She seems locked in the peacekeeper's gaze, and doesn't even hear me calling for her. A loaf of bread is on the floor, and I quickly make the connection. Jania tried to get us food. Usually she's small and sneaky enough, but today obviously not. As I get closer I see her cheeks and eyes are red from crying.

I see the peacekeeper raise his baton as I continue the never ending run towards them. He brings it down in a swooping strike. Jania shuffles backwards, barely able to move out of fear.

The baton gets closer to her body, and I approach further toward them. I leap, arms outstretching, hoping, praying I can get there before the baton strikes her skin.

I do, and the peacekeeper and I go flying several feet before landing with a heavy bump on the cold, cobble ground. The impact knocks the air from my lungs but I soon jump to my feet when I feel the angry eyes of the peacekeeper on me.

"Leave now." He commands, raising the baton. "Or would you like to take the beating for her?"

"I'll take it for her. No one hurts my family." I say stepping into firing range, and plant my feet next to Jania.

In a second the peacekeeper pushes Jania back and strikes a hard blow to my ribs. I collapse instantly, smashing my head on the ground.

"Jania, go." I murmur, seeing her face swimming before my eyes. She flees the square, and I assume she heads home. As long as she's safe, that's all that matters. I hear the next impact before I'm struck, and this time have a few milliseconds to brace myself. The baton crashes against my other side, surely cracking ribs. I groan as the impact shoots through my chest and overwhelms my whole body.

I wake up back at home. I am paralysed with mild pain as I lay in my bed. I must have blacked out after the next few baton strikes. Groaning as I fully emerge from my slumber, the pain hits me like a ton of bricks. Someone slips their hand into mine, trying to calm me down. My eyes dart about, before resting on Jania, her eyes full of tears.

"I'm so sorry." She says quietly, sniffing to hold back the wave of tears.

"It's fine." I try to say, but it comes out as a few interrupted groans and mumbles. Jania sits me up against the headboard of the bed, and I glance down at my body. I flinch at what I see. My chest is purple, covered fully by the blanket or bruises given to me by the peacekeeper. A leg is in bandage, the reason for that I cannot remember. Promptly my head begins throbbing as I lean it back against the wall.

Oh well. I sigh and suck it up. If I hadn't stepped in, Jania would be in my place right now, and that would break my heart. I take another look at her crestfallen face and reach out tentatively with my hand and cup her cheek. "I'm okay. What matters is that you're safe." I smile weakly, and she nods slightly.

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><p><strong>Eve Ferris (14) District 9<strong>

My brothers push past me in frantic glee to reach the food first. Dawn hangs back and grasps at my hand. My little sister is very sweet, and looks up at me with her gleaming brown eyes. She's very innocent, and unknowing of what future could await her in form of the Hunger Games. I give her hand a squeeze, emitting a cute laugh from her, and she promptly returns the squeeze.

We head to the small kitchen and dining room. It's difficult to fit us all round the table, however we manage. I take a stall and prop it next to my heavily pregnant mother, who smiles at me, and Flick, my eldest brother. Dawn pulls herself up on my lap. I look at the small table and the amount of us squashing around it. My mother, Flick, Dawn, and my three younger brothers and I, all sit on make-shift chairs and stalls, eating from wooden bowls around the tiny table.

"Where's father tonight?" Carter, one of my younger brothers asks.

"He's working late, dear." My mother replies tiredly. "He's sorry he can't be here, but when he is offered extra work, he must accept. He works very hard to give us food, you know. And keep us in the house."

"I know." Carter nods, looking meekly at his mush in the bowl. "I was just wondering." He shrugs.

I hunch slightly on my stall as my breathing becomes shallow. There are a lot of people in this very small room, which doesn't bode well for me. I take a nervous glance to my mother, who's already looking at me, a shadow of worry on her face. "You can leave if you want." She says quietly, the others at the table ignoring us. "Take Dawn and go for a walk. I'll put your dinner back under the stove to keep it warm." She smiles at me brightly, though her eyes are tired. I nod my thanks, grab Dawn by the hand, and then leave.

"Where are we going?" Dawn asks after a few minutes walking from the house.

"The fields." I say, feeling much more relaxed already. My shoulders begin to drop now I am free from the small room.

"Why?" Dawn asks, tugging on my hand.

"Because," I say, kneeling down so I can be on her level. I hate belittling people, even when they're only five. "Some people find it very difficult to stay in closed spaces. Sometimes it even scares them." Dawn nods. "Sometimes it even feels like the walls are closing in, and like it's trapping them. This is scary for them, do you understand?" I ask softly. She nods again.

"And I get that. It's called claustrophobia." I conclude, pushing back off my knees.

"Oh. It sounds horrible." Dawn says, following me to the field.

I open the gate and make sure to hold Dawn's hand tight as we weave through the waist height strands of wheat. If I let her go, she would be lost in here. We pick a spot and sit ourselves down amongst the tall wheat, flattening some so we can lie on our backs and watch the sun go down. I breathe out heavily as my body finally feels as if I'm fully relaxing again.

The sight of the sun setting is beautiful in our District. The orange sphere sinks behind the rolling hills, emitting one final ray of bright light, which shrouds the fields in a gentle haze and warmth. The strands are highlighted in the rays, glittering gold and amber hues. In a second, the light fades as the sphere slips fully behind the hills, and the rays vanish. "Mind if I join you?" Flick's voice enters my thoughts.

"Sure." I say, and shuffle up to make room for him between Dawn and I, but find Dawn is gone. In a moment of wild panic I leap to my feet and begin screaming her name.

"Calm down." Flick says gently, placing a soothing hand on my shoulder. I jump at his touch; his fingers are like ice. "I took her back home when you were watching the sun go down. I figured you wanted some alone time, as you looked like you were daydreaming."

I sigh in relief and sink to the floor. "Thank you."

"It's fine. Sorry for worrying you like that."

I shake my head, dismissing it, and lie back on the ground. The air may be a lot cooler now, but the light wind is wonderful, and caresses my skin softly as I lie in the fields.

"So," Flick begins "it's the reapings soon."

"Oh great." I roll my eyes. "Thanks a bunch for reminding me." I laugh slightly as I sit back up. "You're lucky; you've only got this reaping and next year to go and you're safe."

"Thanks for jinxing it, Eve." He glares jokingly at me.

"Oh shut up." I grin, ripping some wheat from the ground and pawing at it until it becomes a ball, which I then throw at him. It hits him square in the face, which is a picture of shock. I look into his deep brown eyes that I truly trust. He's one of the few people I feel I can really be myself around. Most people just see me as the silent mouse. No one really ever gets to know me very well.

Interrupting my thoughts, the ball returns to me, hitting me on the arm.

"Oi!" I say, laughing. "Your aim is bad anyway." I stick my tongue out at him.

He makes a sound of annoyance. "You started it."

I turn to collect the ball, but stop as I hear a voice.

"We should go." I say quietly to Flick. "I think it's a farmer. If they find us in here, father could lose his job."

Flick nods in agreement. He scoops up the ball of wheat and we gradually make our way through the strands, picking our way towards the gate. We arrive, without having an encounter with the farmer, and run home as fast as we can, hoping no one saw us in the fields.

* * *

><p><strong>Aria Opal (16) District 12<strong>

"Work harder, Aria." He commands. "If you want to be a victor like me you must put the effort in."

"I know!" I snap, gritting my teeth and continue slashing at the dummy with the short-sword. "Get off my back okay. I've been working for this for a long time." I am determined not to let him get under my skin like he always does.

"Yes, but I've won the games and you haven't, so maybe you should listen to me." He says with eerie calmness. I spin on my heels to face him, and lower my sword from my stance. I glare into his sky blue eyes, which look back at me without a flicker of emotion. I never believed that the Hunger Games could change you, but with the evidence that greets my eyes of my boyfriend, who used to be one of the most loving, caring, sympathetic people I ever knew, now just stares and is obsessive.

"That was luck, Tobias." I state. "Don't act like you trained for it, because you were reaped, and you were crying when I went to say goodbye. You said you wish you'd done some recreational training with me. You thought you were dead from the start." My voice begins to rise with frustration as I remember the boy he was before he won the games. "If it weren't for those mutts and that District 6 girl shooting the boy from 2, you would have been dead. You killed her after the mutts had done damage whilst you cowered in a tree."

"Shut up, Aria!" Tobias shouts, slamming his knife he had been cradling into the dummy. The impact echoes and I have the sense to fall silent. "It is called being tactical. I must have done something right, or I wouldn't have won." He spits on the floor and walks away.

I drop my sword completely and let it fall to the ground with a clatter. He turns back round on reaction to the noise, but I am already walking away. My head is held high. I will not sink to his level.

"Get back here right now, Aria." He commands, and I can picture his face clearly; I've seen it enough times. He's flushing red with anger, with his lips pricking up into his devilish snarl. "I mean it." He shouts. "Look at everything I've done for you. You do not have the right to walk away from me you conceited brat!"

I slam the door on my way out, hoping it'll be enough to shock him back to reality. Anger bubbles up inside of me and I begin to shout every curse under the sun, directing them to him.

"He's changed so much." I frown, sinking down into the sofa beside my older brother, Zarak, who is busy running his fingers through his messy bronze hair. He stops as he realises I'm talking about Tobias. Zarak knows he's the only one I ever open up to about anything.

"That's the Hunger Games." He says sadly before shrugging and pulling me into a hug. "He probably can't help it."

"I know." I say slowly. "But he's horrible. He never stops going on about how he won the games and about how great I could be if I tried." I sniff, my anger from earlier fading fast and being replaced with sadness. "I just want back the Tobias I fell in love with." I say quietly, burying my head in Zarak's shirt.

"Hey." He coos, stroking my hair. "It's okay. Everything will be okay." Zarak's bad-boy exterior melts away, and exposes his softer side.

"He scares me sometimes." I say hesitantly. "But I have to remember it's him underneath it all, and that hopefully he'll come back one day."

"It doesn't always work like that. But if he touches you, you must tell me, so I can rip him to shreds." Zarak says darkly, resting a protective arm on my shoulder.

"No," I say, shaking my head aggressively, "you can't hurt him." I turn to my brother. I admire his intense sea-green eyes and the way they shimmer with anger. He's actually beautiful. He trains with me most of the time, but doesn't ever listen to Tobias's advice. Zarak is strong; anyone could see that by looking at the way he's built; tall, muscled, and broad shouldered.

"I barely see him outside of training, and when I do, all he talks about is the Capitol, the Games, and weapons. He's not the Tobias I love." I feel tears welling up in my eyes but blink them away furiously. I am not weak. He will not break me.

"I just want to run away and leave District 12. Leave behind all these bad memories of losing father, having to live with our vile step-father who treats us like scum. And now I've lost my Tobias. My love. I told him things Zarak, like the kind of things I tell you." A sigh of anguish escapes my lips. "We were so close. How could he let the games change us?!" slowly through my speech my voice begins to rise. By the end, I am shouting, jumping around on my feet, trying to emit my anger and frustration.

Zarak leaps up and envelopes me in his arms, holding me crushingly tight. I can actually feel him draining the anger from me. He holds me until I stop resisting, and the embrace become comfortable. "You don't need him."

"If I leave him he'll kill me. He's mad enough as it is. He thinks he owns me." I shake my head. How could I have let it get like this. I couldn't bare standing up to him when he returned all cocky and angry from the games. I let him walk all over me like our mat at the door. How uncharacteristic of me. How foolish of me.

"I'm meant to be strong. I train, I am grounded. How did it turn out like this?"

"You can't blame yourself."

"I know." I frown. "I can't help but hope he'll change. You and he mean everything to me. You're the only two people I trust in this world." Zarak knows this is true. After father died in the mine when part of it collapsed, he was there for me. When our mother remarried to the District mayor, and moved into his fancy house, the beating begun. Our step-father will never like us. Never has, never will. We are just scum to him, getting nothing but scrap whilst he graces our mother with riches. He takes her from us. I barely know her anymore.

"I hate this." I state coldly. Our unstable lives have gone nothing but downhill in the last few years. The one thing I look forward to is volunteering for next year's games. I'll skip the Quarter Quell, but volunteer for the next, when I will be at my peak from all the training. Then I can bring money to Zarak and I, and we will never have to see our step-father again.

"Me too." Zarak nods and we sink simultaneously onto the sofa.

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><p><strong>AN- Hello everyone, thanks for reading. If you could drop a review I'd be very grateful thank you :)**

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**Big thanks to GeorgeMellark6 for beta reading for me. Thank you also to Eneyla Arcamenal for offering to help me :)**

**Once again, thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Next chapter is District 1 and 2 reapings.**


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